Archimedes?
by Vicktionary
Summary: Medic finds that Archimedes has gone missing and sets out on a journey to find his loyal pet. His team-mates' insanity aid him along the way. Inspired by word-prompt 'I'm Here'.
1. 404 Missing Bird

Another long, gruelling session of fighting had come and gone, yet the battle was neither lost or won. Guns had been fired, backs had been stabbed and charges had been ubered. It had been a long-lived wish now, that Medic could heal himself with his own Medigun, but alas, health-packs and dispensers proved to be more fruitful a source. Of course, when the situation truly demanded it, he could always place the uber on himself to survive just a little bit longer. But most of the time, behind Heavy's trusty, broad frame was his choice of temporary shelter.

His fellow team-mates groaned as they sank their tired selves onto the benches of the locker-room, clothes torn and wounds a-fresh. He realised that even though the battle may have ended for today, Medic still had a long evening ahead of him, as he would have to patch each and every team-mate back up again for tomorrow's war. So, instead of packing all his stuff away into his locker, he snapped on a fresh pair of gloves and wiped his glasses clean of any blood-splatter.

"You all know ver to find me." He informed his team-mates, receiving vague nods of acknowledgement before he disappeared into his usual operation room. After knowing each and every one of his group for a while, they had all reached a consensus where they would decide amongst themselves who needed the medical attention first. Of course, this had not always gone so smoothly. Everybody wanted nothing more than to get back to the comfort of their abode as quickly as possible so, duplicitous efforts had been made to jump to the front of the line. Demo had tried to inflict more damage on himself through the use of his sticky bombs, Scout had on occasion tried to zip past everyone in the line (and when that didn't work, he'd simply demand a dispenser) and Spy had cloaked and snuck himself into the room and locked the door on everyone else.

Whatever the deal was, Medic had little patience for it because no matter what their choice, Medic would always be the last to retire. On-top of that, he also had to clean up and make sure all the organs he collected throughout the day were placed where they should be in the fridge. Engi once made the mistake of rummaging through said fridge for a beer and after that, learned his lesson forever. But it wasn't all bad. Heavy was usually kind enough to offer up his sandvich to the Medic, as he consistently sustained the most amount of damage and thus took longer to heal.

But before Medic could even start prepping the exam table, he realised something. Or rather, he realised the lack of something in the very room itself: Archimedes. Medic glanced around the room, listening out for any faint cooing or fluttering of wings, but resulted only with silence.

"Archimedes?" The German called out as he surveyed the room once more. When his second attempt failed him, he decided to check for his bird in the fridge, albeit somewhat hesitantly. It wasn't likely but Archimedes went where organs went, so it seemed like a reasonable conclusion.

"Achso, not zhere eizher." And when that failed, he snapped off his gloves and out the room he went. To his surprise, the others had already left- all except Demo. But Medic found it safe to assume that the rest of them were just playing 'rock, paper, scissors' to decide who went first. Nevertheless, he thought he would start with the black Scott, who had waited no further to bring out his stash of whiskey and embrace it with his lips like a long-lost lover.

"Say, Demo-" Medic approached him, "Have you seen Archimedes?"

There were a few seconds of delay, but Demo eventually responded. "Oh, Doc! Fancy seein' yooh heer!" The man toppled over somewhat from his initial position, the liquor sloshing within its glass encasement. "Archimedes? Wot' ar' ye talkin' abowt? There 'e is! Right there on yer shoulder! Christ, an' they say I'm tha droonk one ovar heer'."

Okay. So maybe he shouldn't have asked him in the first place, Medic berated at himself.

"Of course. Silly me." But he played along anyway. "Now tell me, do you know ver zhe others are?"

"Aye," A hiccup, "Spoy went oot fir' a smook and the others went with 'im."

"Naturlich." Medic remarked dryly. "Danke, Kamerade. I'll be vith you again in just a bit."

And swiftly, he followed the Demo's directions. And he did indeed see the Spy enjoying one of his cigarettes. At least the man got that right and was not nearly as concussed as he seemed.

"Ah, Docteur." The Frenchman greeted him, "I take it you are not here to ask for a cigarette?"

"Nein, danke." And 'never', the Medic added inwardly to himself. "I seem to have lost the verabouts of Archimedes. Have you seen him?"

"Oui." Medic's brows raised just a little. "But that was yesterday at 5 o' clock. Have I seen him today? Then non." And just like that, Medic's features sank, his lips in a thin line of irritation. But he bit his tongue, thanked him for his time as any polite gentleman would and turned to go about on his merry way to find the others.

"The others have followed Engi out on a quest to find beer." The masked man supplied upon seeing his team-mate's dejected spirits. "The black Scottish cyclops tried offering his whiskey to them but yelled at them as soon as they tried to take the bottle from his hands."

The German had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. "Zhat does not surprise me."

"Try that way." Lazily, the Spy gestured in a direction with his thumb. The Medic nodded and left, but not until he snatched the cigarette out of the man's hands and threw it away. "You shouldn't smoke so much." were his parting words to the Frenchie.


	2. Mmph mmph mmph!

And so, once again, Medic followed the directions of another one of his team-mates. Luckily, it didn't take him long till he caught up with more members of the gang, as it appeared they hadn't left for long. He found Pyro and Engi sitting together on a log just outside another building; Pyro staring intently at the camp-fire that only he could have started, and the Engi strumming his guitar in a soft but never-ending melody.

"Howdy, Doc!" The Texan greeted with a friendly grin. Pyro didn't even notice him.

"Guten Abend." Medic responded courteously, surveying the scene before him. "The ozhers aren't vith you?"

"Scout said he knew of a liquor store not far from here, swore by his mother's name he had seen it once, so they all decided to follow him." Engi's fingers never ceased in their gentle strumming, the chords taking ever so subtle a variation here and there.

"And vhy aren't you vith zhem?"

"Scout said he didn't wanna take no Pyro along with him. Said he was a dumb idea to take a thing so obsessed with fire into a place that sets easy on fire. So I said I'd stay with the poor fella."

Medic spared a glance at the 'thing' that made so many of the Scout's fears, the 'thing' looking docile as ever in-front of the splay of flames.

"Zhat's very nice of you,"

Engi simply smiled that laid-back smile of his. "Fella ain't so bad."

"So long as you give him fire." Medic cracked a dry smile. "Now, I don't wish to be so direct but- have eizher of you seen Archimedes?"

Much to his and Engi's surprise, Pyro looked up. It seemed that the name of Medic's flying companion had pulled him out of his little reverie.

"Mmph mmph!" Medic understood none of that, but understood it when Pyro pointed in another direction insistently.

"Danke schön, Kameraden. As you vere." And then the Doctor was out, wasting no time in following yet another possible lead.


	3. The Gang's all here

By this point, it was starting to get dark and cool and his legs were starting to ache more than they already had. Medic debated over and over whether to try and find where the others were, or whether he should take Pyro's word on what he saw (provided that it wasn't a hallucination). He cursed at himself for not asking where Scout and the others had headed and continually racked his mind trying to remember whether or not he had seen a liquor store anywhere near here before. He was also surprised that Heavy hadn't been carrying a vodka flask on him already, as it was his choice of anaesthetic while under Medic's knife and treatment.

"I swear by my mom's name I saw it here once!"

The familiar noise of their team's speed-freak abruptly ended all of Medic's thoughts. Wow, Engi had actually quoted him word for word. Here, he thought he was just para-phrasing.

"Oi! Why did we all decide we'd trust him? Who's brilliant idea was that?" There was Sniper.

"Heavy tired and hungry and still need treatment from German doctor. I say we head back to base." And Heavy.

"I can take us all there in no time, men! I'll use my rocket launcher!" Then there was Soldier. The gang was all here.

"Heavy think that bad idea. Rocket blow man to bits and pieces and Doctor can no stitch back up."

"I can get there first before you can, I bet you! Come on, let's put a wager on it!" Scout interjected before Sniper could agree with Heavy.

"God damnit, you bloody bogans. Let's just get outta here."

"Doctor!" Someone had finally spotted him coming towards them. Heavy seemed pleased at the Medic's arrival. "Why you here and not at base? We were going to bring beer back to waiting team-mates."

"I vas lead hier by Demo, then Spy and then Engi and Pyro."

"We have to get to the base!" Soldier yelled out urgently to his comrades, pulling out his whip and smacking the three others on the back.

"Ow- Hey! Would you cut that out?"

"What ya doin' here, anyway, Doc?" Sniper inquired, managing to duck away in time to avoid Soldier's disciplinary whip.

"Have any of you seen Archimedes?" This time, Medic didn't bother with any pleasantries, getting straight to the point. And if he wasn't feeling it before, the doctor certainly felt a sinking pit in his chest and stomach. He was starting to worry. Archimedes had never wandered off this far before.

"He's not ver he usually is. I've looked all around and asked everybody but nobody seems to have seen him. Pyro might have but now, I'm not so sure..."

An awkward silence fell among the crowd of men.

Soldier, of course, was the first to break it.

"We have to find the bird!" And for whatever reason, then decided to launch a missile aimlessly into the sky. "Sniper-" And with a fierce stomp of his foot, pointed his gnarly, dirt-covered finger at the marksman. "Use that rifle of yours to scope the place. Leave no inch of what the eye can see uncovered."

"Well, it's not really how you'd use a-" But before Sniper could finish his sentence, he caught glance of the Medic's sunken features and begrudgingly agreed, taking his rifle off his back and proceeding to find a high place to perch himself on.

"Scout!" His pointed finger travelled to the Bostonian. A momentary pause. "Go Scout!"

"S'that really the best you could come up with? I do more than just that, y'know. It's not just a title- it's a lifestyle." Scout puffed up his chest, but Solder wanted to hear nothing more of it, grabbing the younger male by the scruff of his shirt and yanking him in.

"Are you defying my orders, Maggot?!" Scout was now so close to his face that every spit particle flung out from Soldier's mouth rained over him like a day in early Spring.

"Gross! Man, people are gonna be thinkin' that we're kissin'! I can't have any of tha-"

"GO. SCOUT." Soldier roared back in return, reaching decibels Medic didn't think was possible for human vocal chords- at least, not possible without his tinkering. Another whack from his whip was the last it took to send the speed-demon on his way.

"HEAVY."

"Da?"

"You stay here with me. We will imitate bird sounds to try and lure it back."

"Heavy don't think this such good-"

But just in true-Soldier fashion, the Russian leviathan never got to finish his sentence as the militant man began his practice, producing noises the Medic never thought he'd witness the Soldier making. This also broke Sniper's concentration and earned the Soldier a strange (and somewhat worried) look from the Aussie.

"Squ- SQUACK. No, no. That's not right. We need to open our mouths wider. SQUA-"

Heavy shifted uncomfortably on the spot, finding it just as uncomfortable to look at what Soldier had become, eyes peering over then darting right back to the ground in sheer embarrassment. For a moment, he considered doing it just out of loyalty to both Medic and Soldier. Then he realised that he was a fully grown man with dignity.

"How about Heavy just come with you to search for bird?"

Medic found it hard to look away from Soldier as he started flapping his arms up and down to simulate the activity of what he thought birds did. It didn't take him long to remember, however, that time was running out. He still had to the entire team to repair and he wouldn't be able to do that without knowing whether Archimedes was safe.

"Ja, that idea suits me well. Danke." A grateful smile graced his lips, the sinking feeling in his chest dissipating just a little with the help of his comrades. "Pyro suggested that I look in this direction." He gestured, although his expression was not the most self-assured of types.

But that was all Heavy needed to hear. "Okay. We go." And right on, he marched, Medic following suit after a few stunned seconds. Was Soldier really trying to take flight?


	4. A Solid Partnership

The two men walked in silence. But neither of seemed to mind. Medic was too lost in thought to notice the lack of small-talk between them, trying over and over to retrace his steps. When did he last see Archimedes? Why would he have gone? Where would he be if he were a blood-thirsty dove? One question just led straight to another. Heavy, on the other hand, was just enjoying a peaceful evening after the chaos of today's war, even sans beer. He was also just glad to not be seen with Soldier in this very moment.

"Medic-"

His thoughts stopped and his eyes refocussed. "Vas is it?"

"Look."

Heavy was a man of few words, sure, but Medic soon realised why he didn't need to say so much. When he finally got a hold of his bearings, he realised where the directions from Pyro lead to. They were nearing the enemy base.

"Achso..." The two of them paused in their tracks. Was it really worth it to go in and take a look? Would it even be safe? Maybe Archimedes would find his way back by tomorrow morning...

No, he finally decided. He'd already come this far and looked everywhere else. With a determined air, he put his foot forward to continue on his way. Then he paused and glanced up at his Russian team-mate.

"Look, you don't have to come vith me, Heavy. You've already done enough. I can take it from hier myself."

Heavy scoffed. "No." Was his only reply.

Medic's brows furrowed. "Look, I don't vant to get you into trouble. It's dangerous in zhere."

"Then you will need Heavy Weapons Guy." Heavy gave the other man (what he thought was) a gentle nudge. "If Medic go, I go, too."

The German found himself without a decent come-back. Heavy had a point. The enemy team would be crawling with people out for his blood. And Medic wasn't exactly well-equipped for combat since there's _really_ only so much damage a bonesaw and syringe gun could do.

"Are you sure?"

Heavy grinned. "Da. Just let me eat Sandvich."

A few moments of silence passed the two again. Then, Heavy gave Medic a thumbs-up when he was done eating.

"Thank you, my friend." Another small, albeit uncertain, smile tugged at the corners of Medic's lips.

Heavy just shook his head. "You buy next round of vodka and Heavy is happy man."

"Deal." A proper smile this time.

And forward they went, Medic trailing just a little bit behind Heavy, incase any hostile fire started.


	5. Busted

It was surprisingly empty, they both found, as they neared the enemy lair. There was no immediate sign of a threat, save for the drying blood stains soaked on various parts of the floor from the aftermath of today's battle. Bullets were scattered sporadically all over the floor, bearing an uncanny resemblance to strewn confetti. It was also easy to tell where Pyro had ambushed his opponents, his past presence indicated with scorched marks around the buildings. Medic made sure to look out for places that the enemy Sniper would have parked himself.

Abruptly, Heavy came to a halt.

"Is sometsing wrong?"

The bigger of the two took a careful glance around before he tried to tilt his head forward, as if to try and pick up any possible noise coming from outside the enemy's locker room. When he heard no immediate gun-fire or sign of a presence, he continued. They were both aware that, even though they weren't shot dead as soon as they stepped on sight, this silence just felt a little too eerie to be good.

Then, suddenly...

"There's a freakin' enemy in our base!"

Oh shit.

Both men went rigid, and as it dawned on them that if they didn't turn to face him soon enough, they would both receive a bullet straight to the back of the head. So like any semi-rational human being, that is what they both did. Medic started berating at himself again; we should have thought of a better plan, I should have never listened to Pyro, the man is barely lucid, why did I have to drag Heavy into this, I just want to find Archimedes... The list went on, needless to say he was beginning to regret his decision.

Even though, Sasha wasn't immediately on Heavy, the Russian still had his shotgun. And as quickly as he could, he drew it out and aimed it at the rival Scout. Medic had a sinking feeling that Scout could out-run both of them before they even had a chance to shoot him. He supposed that, as a last resort, Heavy could maybe throw one of his super caliber bullets really hard at enemy Scout's head. It just had to be a Scout, out of all people that they ran into, Medic thought to himself. Heavy's one possible circle-running, loud-mouthed, and incessantly-speaking weakness.

"Ve do not vish to fight." Medic offered anxiously. "At least, not right now."

"Yeah, right. Like I haven't heard that one before." Scout spat back, baseball bat already at the ready, bobbing on the spot as he if getting ready to run circles around two of them. "You're here to try and take our intelligence. Just admit it. Why else would ya be here anyways?"

"That is long story." Heavy supplied.

"Und I think I have an izea vhy."

Heavy blinked. Was that Medic? That surely had to be Medic, it sounded just like him. Then Heavy's confusion multiplied when Medic himself, also looked confused. "I said nothing."

"Nein, that vas me."

What followed after was the sight and sound of Scout's body going limp and slumping to the floor, eyes rolled to the back of his head. As he fell, the enemy Medic was revealed to be behind him, a nearly empty syringe in hand.

"Vell, that didn't take much, did it?" Enemy Medic remarked. "I take it you are hier about your bird?"

The stunned silence that followed was not due to the fact that Medic's genetically exact doppelgänger was standing right there before them. No, that wasn't it. Nobody seemed to take it as strange that they fought their identical selves dressed in another colour everyday. What they were so shocked about was the fact that enemy-Medic seemed to have caught news of friendly Medic's dilemma.

"...Ja. Ahm- might I ask, how do-"

"How do I know?" Enemy Medic completed the sentence for him, re-adjusting his glasses. "Because, I too, have an Archimedes."

Heavy looked uneasy once again. "Uh... Medic," He tried to murmur in hushed tones. "Do you think we can really trust him?"

Medic glanced back at Heavy with a knowing look. He, too, wasn't sure whether or not this was all a ploy to sabotage their team as a whole. And what better place to start? Besides, how difficult could it really be to kidnap a bird?

"Make your mind up quick." Enemy Medic had heard their whispered conversation. "Because the rest of my team is going to notice you if you loiter about too long."

And as if right on cue, the words "Kaboooom!" followed by the rustling of a detonation were heard. Not long after, the Scott came crashing down from the sky, the Soldier yelling at him from what appeared to be the roof of another building.

"Fine. We'll trust you. For now." Medic's jaw clenched. "Take me to him."

And no sooner did Enemy Medic usher the two into a building, while the others were blissfully unaware of their presence.


	6. Friend or Foe?

And no sooner did Enemy Medic usher the two into a building, while the others were blissfully unaware of their presence. After some quick calculations of risk assessment, the German came to the conclusion that trying to take down one sole Medic would be easier than trying to take on the rest of the team, should they be spotted. At least this way, should the enemy Medic try anything, he would be there with Heavy to quell his potential and dubious activities. And had Medic known that Pyro's lead would take them down this path, he would have asked their Sniper for his Jarate, just for good measure. For a brief moment, Medic entertained the possibility that Pyro may have lead him down this path with the intent to hurt him. Then he remembered that this was the same Pyro that liked helium-inflated balloons of unicorns. It was just as possible that he was trying to help.

The two found themselves stepping into a dark corridor, the only source of light coming from a small creak from the door opposite.

"This looks familiar..." Friendly Medic remarked to himself.

"It's because you have the same building. Now hush and follow me." He certainly was as impatient as the Medic he knew, Heavy mused to himself. Always rushing to get to business, always rushing to be punctual.

"I'm sure I won't need to tell you not to touch anything while you are both here."

Further into the room Enemy Medic went, and Friendly Medic had to slap Heavy's curious paw from reaching out for something that looked vaguely like food.

"You just had your sandvich!"

He hissed in whispered tones to him. Heavy looked sheepish.

"It has been long day."

When Enemy Medic came back to them, Heavy stepped in-front of Medic rather protectively, suspicious that he was going to try something. But when he saw that he was carrying nothing but a spacious bird-cage, he eased up and stepped aside.

"Archimedes?"

What responded was a familiar coo, coming from one of the two blood-stained doves within. Enemy Medic opened the door to the cage, and the fluttery companion wasted no time in flying back to its rightful owner. Medic's hand was already held out for Archimedes to perch upon.

"Oh! You're safe! You're fine. You're not hurt." A wide grin stretched itself across Medic's mouth and he gave a soft nuzzle to his pet. "I vas so worried about you. Do you have any idea?"

Enemy Medic remained quiet, but a look of amusement plastered his strong features. "You see, what happened vas, my Archimedes went wandering off by himself as well."

"Yes, he does that quite a lot, doesn't he?" Medic's eyes never left the white bird, eyes gleaming.

"It cannot be helped. They are curious creatures. But back to the story, my Archimedes somehow flew to your base and to the exact same room as this one."

Heavy, situated in the midst of all this, found himself getting tennis-eyed as he watched one Medic talk to the other exactly identical Medic. It was then he realised that if Scout bursted into the room right now and whacked him over the head with a frying pan, he wouldn't know which Medic was friend or foe.

"And in zhat very room is where he found himself- but only not himself!"

The two Medics mirrored each other's cackle. "It's no vonder he'd want to follow yours back to this room!"

"How do you tell which bird is yours?" The Russian couldn't help but inquire, and then instantly regretted it when both Medics shot him a look as if he had just gravely insulted their mothers. "Just want to know." He tried to add to soften the blow of his question.

"Zhat is like asking how do I know vhich hand is my own!"

Alternate-Medic nodded in agreement. "Exactly that."

Heavy had previously wanted to ask how the birds knew which Medic was theirs, but after his first question elicited such a response, he decided keeping his mouth shut for the next 5 minutes was for the best.

And then at some point, Heavy stopped understanding the conversation because the two had switched to speaking in German, seeing no point in expressing themselves in a tongue that wasn't native to either of them.

A good quarter of an hour had passed now, and while that wasn't much, the sooner they left the enemy lair, the better. So Heavy cleared his throat (albeit rather awkwardly) to get his Medic's attention.

"_Was? Oh, natürlich! Wie könnte ich das vergessen_? I'm sorry, Heavy. I almost forgot how late it was getting. That reminds me... How are we going to get out of this place without anybody noticing?"

Both eyes turned back to alternate Medic, and his deep chuckling slowed to a stop, features falling back into their serious and stern frown. "That's indeed a good question. But worry not! I have a plan."

Heavy felt scared.

Lucky for him, that sentence wasn't coupled with the addition of scalpels. Instead, the other Medic opened the back door of the room.

"If you're quick- and quiet," He put emphasis on that particular word, "Nobody should see you."

"Oh... You kept my Archimedes safe. However can I repay you?"

The Medic's identical counterpart smiled. "We may be enemies. But I will not hurt what I know is just as dear to you as it is to me." Then he arched a brow, "Perhaps next time you see me on the battle-field, you'll turn a blind eye."

The two shook hands to solidify the agreement. It of course, didn't mean that the war between them was over. But with any luck, this meant they wouldn't have to cross fire with one another.

Note:

_Was? Oh, natürlich! Wie könnte ich das vergessen_? : What? Oh, of course! How could I forget?


	7. Back at Last

By the time that the two had gotten back to base, the rest of the gang had reassembled. Demo had either sobered up in the time they were gone, or he had simply sicked up what was in his stomach. Medic ventured to guess the latter. Nevertheless, there he was, sat just outside the locker room with Soldier. Another whiskey bottle had been brought to life by Demo and they were playing a game of cards. Spy lingered near them, leaning against the wall, idly listening in on what their drunken selves had to say, every so often peeking over to see which of the two had the better hand.

"Read it and weep, Soldier!" Demo announced quite confidently, throwing down whatever hand of cards he had before the army man.

"You have sevens! I need sevens!"

"Wha- Soldier, wat ar' ye doin? Yer not meant to take those cards!"

"I thought we were playing goldfish."

A synchronised face-palm was shared between the black Scott and the Spy.

"Boink! That's mine now." Scout interrupted their game, yoinking the liquor bottle out of Demo's hand and running off with it.

"That bloody Scoot!" He had poked the bear. "I'm comin ta get ye, yer little piece of sh-" The rest of sentence was muffled as Demo flung himself into the air with his sticky launcher.

"Why am I surrounded by idiots?" The Frenchman asked nobody in particular, looking up as if to have his ponders answered by the heavens.

"I see I've come back just in time." Medic sighed, announcing his presence among the others.

"The Doctor is in!" Soldier straightened up and saluted.

"I see you have found your bird." Spy noticed, "...and brought the fat man back with you." Heavy stared him down in response. But Medic grasped the Russian's shoulder firmly and with a hand raised in defence, said rather frustratedly,

"There will be no fighting among us. Not unless you want me to take even longer repairing the wounds you will give each other."

"He mock Heavy. He will get Heavy beating." The leviathan had engaged in a staring contest with Spy, who was doing all but acknowledging the Russian, whipping out one of his slender cigarettes again with the manner of a pompous arse.

"Oh, how _clever_! You made a little pun. Good for you, fat-child."

"Heavy is not child! Heavy is grown man that will break your face."

Medic heaved another sigh. Why call for a war when his own team-mates were already so eager to bring each other down? This was too much for him. He wasn't even going to try breaking up the inevitable fight. He did not go through 10 years of intensive training just to deal with this. Then a soft nibble at his hair reminded him that Archimedes was back with him now, safe and sound. And that was enough to lighten the grim expression on his face.

"Let's take you home now, shall ve?"

So he walked past and into the locker room, just in time to avoid Soldier deciding to join in on Demo and Scout's chase by supplying missiles for them to dodge.

At least the locker room had been taken refuge by a few of his more saner team-mates. Sniper had taken out his coffee flask and offered some to Engi, sitting across from him and talking about something or the other. Medic wanted to assume their conversation held more intellect than the one going on outside. There was only one left- and Pyro wasn't anywhere to be seen at the current moment, he realised.

"Apologies for the delay." He said when both men noticed him entering the room. The fresh pair of latex gloves were back on, and Medic was back for business. "But I'm ready to operate now! Have you decided who's going first?"

"Mmph mmph mmph!"


End file.
